The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1887-08-11
SISTER CECILIA.
ALBANY Evening Journal.

mnoie ne was sent by his father, a
West Indian merchant: What jolly
lad he was: He soon becanie popular
with the masters and boys. Strange
ne should single me out from among
them ala delicate; sickly boy-and
stand my friend ever after! twas
then q miserable, boy ofabout his own
age, mourning the death Of niy mother.
Many were the talks we had, 1tellinp OF
her sweetness and goodness; he trying
to comfort me and speaking in LOVING
terms Of the mother lie could but dim.
~ remember: Hugh had been but two
years in England when his father died,
leaving him large fortune, alone in
the world. We had our fling at the
world together and were what is
termed rather wild. came out all
right; but poor Hugh IN some manner
got mixed up witha favorite of the foot.
hghts considerably older than himself,
and-well, he married her. did not
know it until it was too late;. then all
could do was to watch the disgust
creeping up into his fine face; disgust
with himself, with her, with eve1v.
thing. She would not leave the stage.
and at last, after series of disgrace-
ful acts, she reached the climax and
ran away to Australia, and did not
go alone.
Then the boy, for he was little more
than a boy, only %. reproached him
self with being the cause of her mad
act, thinking bitterly that he had not
been kind enough to her, had shown
her perhaps too plainly the difference
IN their stations; had let her see the
disgust her fast life had caused him to
feel. Well, l for ore was glad she had
gone; he was free and could begin life
over again, and when in time We heard
she was dead we thrust the remem-
brance of her out of our lives, and
Hugh became gay and lighthearted
once more. We had many friends
among the literary and dramatic men
about town, and Hugh grew as popu-
lar among them as in the old school
days. Still, l was unprepared for the
next step ne took-that of going on
the stage himself. Why he should do
so could not make out. All ex-
PLANTATION he vouchsafed me was that
he was tired of leading an idle life.
and that the excitement of the
stage suited him. As he counted
amongst his friends some of the
brightest lights in the profession, and
all interested in him, OF course he got
on. About that time l had occasion
to 60 to the south of France for NV
health: 1spent three years travelling
around, then followed Hugh to Amer,
lea, where he had gone to fulfill an en-
gagement. l found the same old
Hugh, delighted to see me and all that.
yet l missed something in his mon
ner, something in his face. One thing
noticed. after the first excitement OF
our meeting was over, that he was
more reserved and quiet in his man.
ner, and that he treated his triumpbs
IN this country with q gooi-natured
contempt, and there was g. look in the
fine eyes that could not fathom.
One night, at a supper given in his
honor by party Of actors, l sat at
table not much amused at the con-
versation, wondering what it was in
his face that puzzled me, rs he sat
among us smiling in his lazy, quiet
way. Now and then the conversation
became louder, and would rouse me
from my thoughts. Some one is say
ing: "Do you remember around Ed7n-
burgh and Glasgow, how the women
folks put on fur capes and cloaks the
moment it blows up cold, over their
thin summer dresses? could not
get used to it; it reminded me rather
OF linen buster trimmed in fur; but
now think OF it, Harry was rather
down on everything English, don't
yer know, weren't you, old fellow?'
l suppose there was some joke con-
nected with Harry's sojourn abroad
that l was not aware of, for they all
seemed to enjoy it, and in the laugh
that followed heard him protesting
about "never could like getting into
one car and being fired out OF that
and then locked up in another"
Here my thoughts wandered back
to my friend and the undefinable
something in his manner. I was glad
to hear one of the party saying:
Hugh. it is time to adjourn-nearly
Z o'clock, and l must have time to
dress. By the way, what do you
suppose l was told this afternoon by
a forty-fifth cousin? That Twas sim.
ply divine Divine. my boy, in this
part. So look to your laurels."
"You divine!" jeered Hugh, good
naturally. "Well, l suppose we must
be moving.
We all walked over to the square
together, then separated, each going
to the theater he was playing in.
Hugh being out of the bill that week, l
gladly accompanied him to his rooms.
Arrived there we proceeded to make
ourselves comfortable l watched
him moving around the elegant room
in smoking jacket and slippers, look
ING for a couple of meerschaums.
Hugh" 1said suddenly, mo wonder
you have made the success you have.
l think in all my travels about nev-
er saw finer.looking man."
He stopped and looked at me with
gleam of laughter in his dark eyes,
and in his lazy, quiet way asked:
care you often taken with those girl
ish rhapsodies, John?"
l Twas silent. I could not explain
why had spoken, and so let it pass.
Finding the pipes. he handed me one
and said: Light it, dear boy. It
will bring you down to earth again."
Lighting his own he sank into a
chair and cut the wrapper OF an Eng
lish newspaper he had picked up in
his wandering about theroom. Nov
I wonder who sent me this" Slowly
he unfplded it with grace Of move
lnent l shall never forget. and glanced
over the pages. l was smoking con-
tentedly withmy eyes half closed, when
the rafting of the paper caused me to
glance at my friend. ! started up
right and gazed at him in blank as
tonishment. He was clutching the
paper in his, hands-hands that
shook. With strange tense look on
his face-a look of awful despair, that
l hope never to see on mans face
asail.'
"My Godl my Godl" his white lips
whispered. I knew he WIS uneon.
scious OF my presence, unconscious Of
everything but the paragraph on
which his despairing eyes were fasten'
GU 4z- -sag z